Make It Taboo, Girl Read online

  Make It Taboo,

  Girl

  (Taboo Erotic Stories)

  EB Jones

  Copyright EB Jones 2013

  All rights reserved. These stories or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Disclaimer: All characters are fictional. Any resemblance to real people is coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  His Submissive Pregnant Brat (step-daughter / step-daddy breeding)

  Is That a Forever Secret, Daddy? (naïve step-daughter / step-daddy)

  Taboo Erotica – Confidential Number (noncon rough sex fantasy)

  The No Touching Rule – 1 (step-mommy / step-son)

  The No Touching Rule – 2 (step-mommy / step-son / female cop)

  Lusty Sleep (virgin sleep sex / dubcon / older man nubile woman)

  His Submissive Pregnant Brat

  EB Jones

  Copyright EB Jones 2013

  ***

  It wasn’t her idea that her mom should marry a cop. The divorce had sucked, sure. And her real dad had been a real piece of work. Couldn’t hold down a real job, always getting in trouble with the law. Always needing her mom to bail him out. And then, her mom had finally gotten fed up. Kicked the bum out of the house, served him with papers, and ended that poor excuse for a marriage after fifteen years.

  But really, a cop? Did she really have to replace him with someone whose job it was to throw losers like her real dad in jail? Someone who, by definition, was an uptight hard-ass who wouldn’t tolerate insubordination either at work or in his household? Pretty much his only redeeming quality, if you could call it that, was that he had a hard, deliciously sexy body. She could forgive her mom for marrying the eye candy, even if he was a prick, in his own way.

  She heard the doorbell ring and went downstairs to answer it. It was Felicia, her best friend. Felicia held up a small baggie with dark green buds and leaves and giggled. “I brought party favors. You got snacks?”

  Nicole opened the door and let in her friend. The two of them had just started smoking weed. Call it a ‘we turned 18 and now we’re going to rebel’ phase. And this was some good stuff, too. Felicia had gotten it from a friend of a guy who knew a grower up in Canada. This friend of a friend smuggled it across the border in a small airplane, dropping the bales of weed out of the plane in floating, watertight bags that his accomplices would fish out of lakes with their canoes, then divide into smaller packages for wholesale. It was a slick little operation, and so far no one had gotten caught, everyone was making money, and Felicia had the weed hookup of a lifetime.

  Felicia and Nicole rolled a fat joint in the kitchen. Felicia said, “Get the tortilla chips and salsa ready. I predict big-time munchies.”

  “It’s okay to roll here, but we have to smoke outside. In case Brad gets home.”

  “I think it’s so funny that your hottie step-dad shares a name with a movie star who kind of looks like him.”

  “Eeeew. Gross. He’s my step-dad, remember?”

  “If it were me, I’d be all over that. You two aren’t actually related or anything.”

  “Umm…hello? He’s married to my mom.”

  “Who, I’m sorry to say, is about forty pounds overweight and looks like she hasn’t gotten laid in about four months.”

  Nicole paused. “Yeah. A bitchy thing to say, but maybe you’re right about her. But Brad’s, like, twenty years older than I am.”

  “And totally hot. Hot hot hot hot hot. I’d suck his cock any day.”

  “You’d give my step-dad a blowjob?”

  “Not only that, but I’d fondle his balls while I did it.” Felicia grinned.

  “Dirty girl. You’re mind’s been floating in the gutter.” Sometimes she couldn’t believe what Felicia had to say. But it didn’t completely surprise her. She’d heard a rumor that last year Felicia had sucked the chem teacher’s cock to get an A on the final and bring up her grade enough to pass the class (and she was 18 when she did that, of course).

  “And then, after sucking his big mean policeman daddy-cock, I’d do a strip tease for him until he couldn’t stand it any longer and he just had to grab me with his strong hands and fuck my brains out. Doggystyle. With a finger playing with my ass.”

  “Yuck. The ass part. And, you’ve thought about my step-dad way too much.”

  “Legal for me — you too. Seriously, you should think about it.”

  “And even if I did, what good would it do? It’s not like he’d ever go for me.”

  “You’re an idiot. Really? Look at you. You’re totally hot. Perfect tits, a round ass with just enough booty to grab onto. I’ll bet he’s already jacked off thinking about you about a hundred times.”

  “Too much information.”

  “I’m just saying.”

  “Let’s smoke.” Nicole and Felicia went outside to the deck with the joint and a bag of tortilla chips and salsa in a bowl. The sat in a couple of Adirondack chairs and put the snacks on a small table. The air was cool and crisp. Typical Maine fall weather. A perfect afternoon to get high and chill out.

  “Here’s to the munchies,” said Felicia. “And your totally hot, law-enforcing badass step-dad.”

  “Gross. Light that up and hand it over, will you?”

  Felicia inhaled first, then Nicole took a turn. She coughed, but tried her best to hold the harsh smoke in her lungs. Then she started laughing for no reason other than pure enjoyment of the moment.

  Nicole said, “Okay, little miss horny friend. Maybe I will fantasize about Brad. He is pretty hot.”

  “Now you’re talking. He’d make a great lay.”

  “Yes he would. I’ll seduce him and let you know.”

  “There you go!”

  “I’m shitting you.”

  “No you’re not.”

  “You’re fucking insane Felicia. That’s why I love you.”

  The girls couldn’t keep straight faces any longer and burst out laughing. They smoked the joint until it was just a stub. Their moods and faces glowing. And the air heavy with the pungent, skunky odor of its combustion.

  She knew it was risky to smoke at home. Even outside. It wasn’t like you could just get rid of the smell of burnt marijuana that easily. But Nicole’s mom didn’t get home from her job at the phone company until about seven. And Brad rolled in sometime after nine. Nicole had made herself dinner, which just consisted of microwaving a frozen gluten-free burrito, and now she was hanging out in her room. The door closed.

  She was IM’ing with her friend John Norton. He was pretty cute, one of the boys whom she knew had had a crush on her back in high school. And back then, she’d ignored him. It just didn’t seem right at the time. Maybe he was too scrawny, or just not man enough for her. Now, though, he’d gotten hot; funny what a year of college and working out in the weight room could do to boys.

  She’d seen him since he’d gotten home for the summer, and his arms and chest had filled out. Chiseled, hard abs. She hadn’t told Felicia, but she was still a virgin, too, which was kind of embarrassing. It wasn’t for religious reasons or anything. She just hadn’t ever felt strongly enough about any guy yet. Attracted enough. Which meant that she’d found other ways to satisfy her carnal cravings. She was an expert with her fingers, for one.

  She watched John’s message appear on the screen of her laptop. “You coming to the party on the Foreside tomorrow?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it :)” she typed back.

  “Mind if I pick you up?”

  “Eight o’clock.”

  “Sharp.”

  “C u l8r.”

  She closed the chat window. Yes, John was cute
— hot even. And a really nice boy. But she still had a nagging feeling. That he was a boy, not a man yet.

  (Not a man like Brad)

  Brad. Her evil step-father. Maybe not evil, per se, but a pain in the ass. A sexy pain in the ass. She slipped her fingers down her loose-fitting pajama pants. Took another hand and used it to massage her tits through her tank top.

  “Mmm.…” she said quietly, her eyes closing. She imagined she could see Brad. That he’d cuffed her to her bed, and that he was coming toward her. His enormous cock stiff and proud, arching upward from his crotch. That he was coming closer, ready to take what he desired from her.

  Her hand was drawing small circles around her clit as she explored her fantasy. Making her pussy wet with her juices. She felt the growing fire of her desire as it built inside her.

  (My step-daddy is going to fuck me)

  In her fantasy, Brad pushed her legs apart despite her protest. She told him no, that it wasn’t right. But she wanted it. In this fantasy ‘no’ really meant ‘yes’. She wanted it so much precisely because it was forbidden. Taboo.

  She felt her body building toward climax. Her clit driving her into a frenzy of delight. She could still see a mental picture of Brad as she imagined him driving his thick cock through her virgin opening and deep into her cunt. Fucking. Pounding.

  She tried to be quiet as she came, holding her cries to herself. Covering her pussy with her hand as she felt the aftershocks rush through her. After her release, she heard voices. Talking downstairs.

  ***

  “I am not having this conversation again,” said her mom. “We already went over this.”

  “We’re not finished.”

  “I don’t want another child, Brad.”

  “You can’t mean that. You know what it would mean to me to be a father.”

  “You can’t change the rules of the game like that. Not when I told you in the beginning that there was no way in hell I was popping another little brat out of my pussy.”

  “You’re a vulgar, disgusting woman.”

  “I’m glad you see me that way.”

  “I should leave you. Find myself someone more willing.”

  “Maybe you should.”

  They had the entirety of their argument with hushed tones. Not wanting Nicole to hear, no doubt. But the walls were too thin for that to have any effect.

  Nicole wondered, for a moment — what if she carried a baby for Brad? The thought of her belly, round and large and warm with his unborn child, made her want him even more. But she had to banish the thought. Banish it immediately, lest she start to think that she could actually act on her impulses. And anyhow, he was her hard-ass step-dad. Girls like her didn’t lose their virginity to men like him.

  ***

  Morning. The atmosphere in the kitchen ice cold. Nicole’s mom made the coffee, but Brad hardly said hello to her. He left in his cruiser, the tires kicking up a cloud of dust at the end of the driveway.

  Nicole didn’t want any part of this. Family life could be a downer. She, at least, had the party to look forward to that night. And maybe she’d let John Norton have his way with her. He was cute enough, at least. And Felicia had told her all about sex. It seemed to get better the more you did it.

  But Felicia had mentioned one thing. About older men. They were almost always better. They knew what you wanted, for one. Didn’t rush straight for penetration. They knew about a girl’s clit. About how you needed to touch a girl and stroke her body and kiss her on the side of her neck. And the best ones knew that there weren’t any rules at all. That some girls liked it slow and tender and gentle, and other girls liked it rough. And some girls didn’t know how they liked it until the right man was there to show them what they wanted.

  How would my step-daddy treat me? Would he take his time undressing me, maybe kiss my inner thighs and caress them with his hands? Gently kiss my mound and lick the insides of my lips? Or would he force my legs apart and thrust his big cock into my barely-willing cunt until I submitted to him? What kind of girl am I? What kind of daddy is he?

  ***

  Felicia was supposed to come over that afternoon, but she’d cancelled at the last minute. Nicole still had a small bag of weed that Felicia had given her as a present. She’d stashed it in her underwear drawer; at least there she could be sure that it wouldn’t get found by her step-dad.

  She went to her room and opened the drawer and she could already smell a faint hint of the skunky aroma. The party wasn’t till later — she was sure she could smoke up now and be good for later that night. After all, no one was going to give her a hard time if she showed up to a party with a little redness in her eyes and a smile plastered to her face.

  No one was around the house, so she figured she might as well light up. It was colder outside today, so she decided to violate one of her cardinal rules. She’d smoke inside.

  She wasn’t totally stupid. She had a plan — namely, opening the windows in her room and putting on a fan to ventilate the room. And she’d smoke near a window, just to be safe. She took out a small glass pipe that she’d wrapped in an old pair of panties, then tamped in a few dank buds of weed in the bowl. She held the pipe up to her mouth, then took a lighter and briefly held its flame to the herb in the bowl. She felt the first rush of the smoke into her lungs and coughed. She took another hit, this time trying to hold onto the smoke longer. And that was when she felt her head lighten. A curious sense of well-being, the welcome state of being high. It just wrapped its hands around her like an old friend and carried her into its bliss.

  She thought about taking another hit from the pipe, but she heard the sound of gravel under tires. She looked out the window.

  Fuck.

  It was her daddy, Brad. He never got home this early. Never.

  What the fuck is he doing here now? Why can’t he go back to work? And then it dawned on her that she was high as a kite. And despite the fans, there was an unmistakable odor in her room. And a good chance that the smell had permeated the entire upper floor of the house. It wouldn’t be hard to pick up. Especially for a trained cop.

  I am so fucked. Totally fucked. And she didn’t realize how right she was.

  ***

  Brad came in the front door, slamming it behind him. His footsteps heavy. She heard him stepping up the stairs, walking fast. She hoped, against hope, that if she could just stay still, just restrict her movements and her breathing and her awareness, that he might not realize she was home. That he might not catch on to the fact that she was smoking dank Canadian weed in her bedroom upstairs.

  His footsteps went down the hall, to the bedroom he shared with her mother. She heard him opening drawers. Then the sound of clothes getting thrown into a suitcase.

  Is he leaving her? Is it for real?

  She couldn’t help but wonder if the conversation she’d overheard earlier between Brad and her mother, the one about having kids, had represented some kind of tipping point. A bridge that they’d crossed where there was no going back. What lawyers liked to call ‘irreconcilable differences.’

  And that was when she did something incredibly stupid. Caring, maybe, but still stupid. She felt bad for Brad. She’d never felt bad for him ever since he’d moved into her house and invaded her life, but now she felt genuine sorrow for him. He wanted a child, wanted to be a father. She couldn’t say that she felt his pain, not exactly, but she had some idea of the darkness he was going through. And she wanted to give him something. She didn’t know what that something was yet, she was too high for that, but she knew that she needed to talk to him. Right now.

  She put the pipe with the ashes on her nightstand and opened her bedroom door. She walked down the hall, toward Brad’s room. His door was open. He was folding shirts and putting them into a suitcase. His face a picture of concentration.

  “I’m sorry about mom. For being such a bitch.”

  He looked up at her. “You’re home?”

  “Class got out early.”

  “Y
eah, well — ”

  “ — I heard you guys fighting the other day. I know you want a kid and mom won’t do anything about it. Which kind of sucks. Not that I want a little brother or sister or anything, but it sucks for you because you want one and she won’t give it to you.”

  “You should be a poet. So insightful.” He continued packing.

  “I was just trying to help. Sorry.” She felt hurt.

  “Look, I didn’t mean to — hey, what’s that smell?” He raised his nose into the air, inhaled, then looked at her again. This time his eyes were cold. “You’ve been doing drugs in my house.”

  It was no use denying it. And she was too high to feel much fear. “Yeah. I smoked up. I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry? You’re sorry? Listen, I appreciate your feeling bad for me, but I will not tolerate smoking illegal drugs in this house.”

  “It’s legal in Colorado.”

  “Until there’s a law on the books in Maine, you’re engaging in a misdemeanor drug offense as far as I’m concerned.”

  She remembered what Felicia had said. How if it were her, she’d get down on her knees and suck his cock and play with his balls. Nicole took a good look at him. His body as hard as his demeanor. His anger just rendering him more sexy.

  He said, “What are you looking at?”

  She looked down at herself now. First at her bare feet, then up to her tits. She wasn’t wearing a bra under her tank top, and her nipples were getting hard. Showing through her shirt. And while the sweatpants she was wearing weren’t exactly sexy, the black thong she had on underneath was. As she considered those facts, evaluating her potential for effecting a seduction of her step-father, all in the pleasant purple haze of her mind, she realized that she saw something on him as well. A nice, developing bulge in his crotch. Tangible evidence that, despite his display of anger, she was getting to him. Turning him on whether he liked it or not.

  She said, “Nothing.”